A Sinister Outlook
by poetic licence
Summary: New Chap. 11-12-02 - The year is 2108. A silent future full of bounty hunters and a ruler than no one can escape. Harry Potter, Merchant and Trader, has a price on his head. What happens when Draco Malfoy, Spy, walks back into his life? AU HP/DM
1. Prologue

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A Sinister Outlook

Prologue  
_A Night Falling_

It was the year 2108.

People hurried through the streets, many casting glances over their shoulders.

Dusk approached and the loud, consistent howl of official sirens moaned out over the city streets, a thick, stale reminder that the curfew was about to begin and lock down was almost upon their doors. This was reason enough to hurry, because once lock down had occurred, patrols hit the streets and they shot everything that moved. Everything except the bounty hunters, and they had killing of their own to do.

It had been 23 years since the downfall of the Geniis Government and the revival of the olden Crook's ways that were being enforced by Lord Voldemort. It had been 36 years since the Baltic War had ended with Earth's left over inhabitants of fumbling together the pieces of what remained of their world. Asia had almost completely vanished from the atomic blasts that had rocked the world, changing the environment and climates forever. Most of Canada had been buried underwater, and whatever the oceans hadn't swallowed up had been gripped by a terrific ice age that was threatening to span countless more generations. 

Ever since his regime had fallen into place some seven years ago, everyone apposing Lord Voldemort and his stringent ruling had gone to ground. The Urchins and Beggars had moved to the sewers, scavenging during the day for whatever they could find. The Visionaries had moved into cellars and attics, under the floors of older buildings, planning quietly and secretly, and for the most part, left alone. Everyone knew that most of them were cursed with second sight and they helped control the rise and fall of the city, watching the stars that still shone, dully, in the night sky and no one dared interfere.

Explorers came and went; rode in to sleep as the sun set against their backs, and vanished again with its rise. They were the men and women that rode bareback on the illusion of mystery, of discovering hidden treasures and often worked for the rich in all their high rises and glittering world. (Spies were a plenty and they often worked hand-in-glove with the Scientists and Traders; buying and selling city secrets to the highest bidder. All the while they were trying to build up some kind of functioning life for themselves, while trying not to get themselves killed. If they lasted more than two years in their particular business, they were considered Masters, and the bounty on their heads rose.

The Council of Peace and Harmony of All Peoples Against the Regime, often known as the Order of the Phoenix, was working to restore humanity into peoples hearts, trying to build up their own city within the city's cast-iron walls. They were trying to be free from the rules and regulations of the regime, bringing together all the outcasts and misfits of the barren London city streets, however grimy and graffiti riddled they were, but with precious little success.

A cloaked figure strode forcefully though the emptying streets, the hood pulled tight over his face. He was dimly aware of the time and quickened his pace reflexively, trying to beat the sun in its graceful descent over a broken city. He checked his watch automatically and cursed; the bloody thing hadn't worked since he had been forced to swim ashore in one of his more dramatic escapes from a rough, but very determined, bounty hunter. There was a price on his head of 50,000 kubars, a princely sum, but he preferred to keep his head firmly where it belonged.

It was cold; winter spreading its reaching fingers further and further into the city streets and the bony ribs of Harry Potter. His hands, despite the fierce wind, stayed clenched at his sides, need there be any reason to fight his way out of any possible situation. His jade eyes gleamed as the clouds swept over the city, the moon a distant figurine on the blazing horizon of distant fires and burning sunset.

He finally reached his destination, a shabby out of the way inn with a battered, squeaky sign proclaiming it 'The Leaky Cauldron' creaking ominously; the windows dull and thick with grime. He pushed open the door just in time to hear the final dongs of warning bells and could already hear the heavy marching of patrols and bounty hunters alike, as they sought out the crooks and criminals trying to use night as their clock of disguise. The door swung shut behind him, and he began to breathe again.

~~ ~~~ ~~

Inside there was a distant buzz of low conversations and the sharp clatter of knives against battered plates. Tom, the Innkeeper, swiftly glanced up to observe Harry's progress through the crowd, striding with strident ambiguity. The old Innkeeper leaned with the stroke of his cloth across the bar and gave Harry a tooth-gaped smile.

"'Arry," He kept the conversation casual. "You back then?"

"That's right, Tom. Is he in?" Harry sounded brittle, worn from the month of travel that he had been made to endure.

"Out the back," Tom thumbed the direction. "You'll be staying t'night, I reckon."

Harry gave Tom a curt nod as he stepped around the bar. "Usual room if I could, Tom."

"Alrigh'. See ya in the mornin' 'Arry." Reluctant.

Harry stepped out of the smoky bar through a loose rug slung over a bare doorframe, the thick material feeling cool against his face. Many eyes trained themselves on him as he strode into the room, uncertain, untrusting. Harry didn't know any of these eyes, his own jade ones searching for any sign of familiarity. He loosened the knot on his heavy cloak slightly, feeling warm for the first time in months, before a side door opened and a tall, thin man stepped through.

"Sirius!" Harry called out, his face lighting with this unexpected pleasure.

Sirius Black, long hair falling around his face like a curtain, dark night velvet eyes glistening, grinned widely. "Harry!"

They met half way across the room, a one armed, hand shaking hug, all long limbs and hair. The occupants of the room relaxed slightly. Sirius, Harry's Godfather, had been seen, for a long time, as a traitor to the side of the Light; but documents had been gotten possession of, and testimonies recorded, all of which pointed to his innocence and mistrial. Most of the evidence had come from Harry himself and no one had been happier than he was to see his Godfather out from behind bars and close at hand once more.

Harry stepped back to survey the tall, debonair man for a moment, quickly noting that he had lost the waxy, gaunt look to his face and hands, his hair and teeth shone, and he was not as painfully thin as he once had been. _This is good_, thought Harry to himself, _this is right_.

Sirius gave him a roughish smile. "You'll be wanting to see Albus, no doubt."

Harry nodded. "Yes, yes. I have some documents that need his attention urgently."

"Come through. He is talking to someone at the moment, but he should be just about finished now." 

Sirius drew Harry through the door that he had come from, into a long, sloping down corridor that seemed to disappear into the gloom for quite a way. The low voltage lamps on the walls flickered and shuddered, casting a surreal glow over the shadows and their faces. As they walked, their voices remained low as they talked.

"How did it go in the North, Harry?"

"Not well I'm afraid. They are so much more loyal to Lord Voldemort—" the name was spat out like a foul stench. "—and nothing could be said to change their views. I was lucky to escape with the shirt on my back actually. A rather irritating Bounty Hunter insisted on trying to corner me at every turn."

"Which one?" Sirius sounded amused. Harry's tales of Bounty escapes were legendary in the Leaky Cauldron, and when you got him talking on the subject, everyone would huddle around and listen.

"A new kid on the block, as far as my sources could tell me…Ronald Weasley, who was indeed particularly notable for his flaming red hair and freckles. Not a wise choice of profession if you ask me, with hair like that." Sirius laughed at the face Harry pulled. 

"But you got what you needed?"

"Yes," Harry drew his cloak aside to tap at the inside folds. "I have the disk, as well as several paper copies of something that I think Dumbledore will find very interesting reading that someone just happened to leave lying carelessly around."

"It must have been careless, for them to be catching your eye." Sirius scoffed, ribbing his young Godson playfully.

"Indeed." Grinned Harry, as Sirius opened the door for him, mock bowing as Harry passed through.

The room was dimly lit, as most of the rooms were in the tavern and the surrounding underground passages. This was the nerve centre of The Order, where the faceless souls of the city came to eat, drink, talk; trying to find some kind of normality amongst the concrete and graffiti. A pretty face looked up from behind a shabby desk and smiled at the two men. 

"Lavender, has Albus finished?" Sirius asked, his tone like melted honey. Harry watched with guarded amusement at the flush that rose up on the young lady's cheeks. She was not much older than himself, and his Godfather was a terrific flirt at the best of times.

"No, he hasn't," Her eyes lighted on Harry briefly. "But he won't mind if he's interrupted, I'm sure."

She waved them through with a dainty hand and Harry knocked on Dumbledore's door.

"Enter!" Came the jovial voice from inside.

Harry opened the door and stepped into the warm interior of Dumbledore's office. His old, wizened master was standing next to the fire, his long beard securely tucked away from the leaping flames, talking in low tones to someone who was sitting in one of the high-backed chairs, just out of Harry's eyesight. Dumbledore smiled with generous warmth when Harry stepped into the room, Sirius hovering behind him slightly.

"Harry! Come in, come in. It's so very nice to see you once more."

"Like wise, Dumbledore. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Not at all. Thankyou, Sirius," Dumbledore stepped forward eagerly, ushering Harry in. "In fact, I think you are already acquainted with my guest."

Harry raised an eyebrow, the high backed chair swinging around to face him as the door was shut firmly on Sirius, who could be heard muttering objections through the thin panel.

There was a bright gleam of too blonde hair; a flash of silvery-grey eyes. A mouth upturned in a familiar and haughty expression on an aristocratic face.

"Hello, Potter." The tone smirked.

Harry's jaw dropped. "_Malfoy_?"

~~ ~~~ ~~  
To Be Continued…  
~~ ~~~ ~~

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Amy's Notes:

Starting a Harry Potter Alternative Universe fic was never part of the plan when I first started writing fanfiction. In fact, it was so far _off_ the plan that I didn't even recognise how much possibility was actually there. Malfoi, author of _Façade_, opened up my imagination to AU fics and one rainy Tuesday afternoon, the first line of _A Sinister Outlook_ ran into my head out of nowhere, and an era was born. I originally called it _A Dark Future_, but hated the name, so I used my ever-present computer thesaurus to change it.

This fic had a rough plan, and so far, I have 6 chapters after this prologue, and hopefully they will be relatively long and with far more content than this. I'm planning on a chapter every month, month-and-a half, taking into consideration writers' block and _life_.

My fevering thanks go to my beta, **Regret**, for all her wonderful and dedicated work (and after we sorted out the debacle that I call email). My three collaborators, **Angie**, **Natasha** and **Cora**, for my constant distraction on our combined works; and three of my biggest supporters, **Ishuca**, **Sheron** and **Amalin**, who make the writing all worth it. Thanks also, to **Malfoi**, for being such an inspiration.

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Yahoo: **http://groups.yahoo.com/groups/monochrome_shadows****  
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	2. Beyond The City Streets

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Sinister Outlook

Chapter One  
_Beyond These City Streets_

The night grew darker, the silence strung out through the city streets.

The rustle of dull feet echoed below the rough concrete of the ground, and shadows fled through the sewers with racing hearts and nimble tongued footing. 

Heavier steps pursued them, as they ducked and weaved through thin waters and garbage, muck and sludge aiding and abetting those who were used to it, thwarting those who came for the kill. Three figures pressed themselves against a darkened alcove and stilled their breathing, waiting until their pursuers passed them by and all fell into silence once more.

Peeling themselves off the wall, they walked with velvet feet a few hundred meters back to a large pipe set half way up the wall and levered themselves into it. When they emerged from the other end, they spilled into a room full of shallow light, a fire in a barrel burning brightly in the middle of the room.

There were several thick curtains hung for privacy and to conceal the heavily stacked bunks where this regiment of the Sewarians lived. Brick-brown eyes raised up to greet the three figures, a coarsened smile dancing at the sight of a dozen rats spilling out of a grubby casing by the smallest of the three Sewarians.

"You've done well tonight. We shall feast!" The steady gaze never once drifted from the three slim figures of the young Sewarians. "And what is the news from above?"

The sandy-blonde boy, with hazel eyes, shuffled from foot to foot. "Harry's back. He came into the city an hour before nightfall. Lisa was on front gate duty, saw him and reported it to us just as we were heading back here. He was heading straight for The Leaky Cauldron."

"Harry Potter, back with us again," Murmured Remus Lupin, his greying hair seeming greyer all of a sudden at the mention of Harry, the brown eyes seeming darker in the low light. "If so, we shall have a longer month. The Moon shall not show her face while he is within these walls." He was silent for another moment, before relaxing his shoulders to a more mundane topic. 

"Come," he beckoned his people. "We shall eat."

Colin, Seamus and Oliver exchanged sharp looks between them, as they stoked the fire and more figures plunged into the room from the pipeline as the smell of cooking rats drew them like honey to bees.

"You should have said something about Malfoy!" hissed Colin.

"No," Oliver spoke calmly, his tone strangely commanding. "He does not need to know that yet, it will just cause too much worry and concern."

Seamus wisely said nothing.

~~ ~~~ ~~

Meanwhile, Harry was having problems of his own. 

This was mainly because his jaw was still on the floor as he regarded the slender blonde man who rose from his chair with all the fluid grace of his aristocratic and spying profession.

"_Malfoy_?" he repeated, dumbly.

"It's nice to see that all those eloquence classes paid off, Potter." Sneered Draco in his usual fashion.

Albus Dumbledore regarded them in his usual, laid-back manner, before motioning Harry to a chair. "Have a seat, Harry. We have much to discuss."

Harry sat, with forbearance, and scowled at Draco, who smirked once more, for good measure. "I will leave you to it, Dumbledore."

"No, Draco, please stay. This will save having to get you both together again at a later date. Now, Harry, you have the disk?"

Harry carefully reached into his robes and extracted a slender waterproof and heatproof case from his inside pocket, clipping it open to reveal a microchip disk, which he held out for Dumbledore to inspect.

"Ah, excellent! The wheels can begin to turn. Draco, you have contact with Hermione Granger I believe?" Draco nodded sharply. "Excellent. Please give this to her poste haste. She will be expecting it."

"Hermione Granger?" queried Harry.

"She's an electronics expert and the only person I can think of who has the sheer logical ability to de-code the information on this disk, Harry. She's quite reliable, and loves a challenge." Albus handed the disk to Draco who ferreted it away somewhere on his slender person.

There was a sudden knock on the door and a polite face peered into the room. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Albus, but I bring urgent news from Minerva and the Visionaries."

Albus stood up, tucking his long beard into his belt. "I'll come now, Parvati." He turned to the two young men still glaring at each other with mixed feelings. "Make sure there's no blood on the carpet when I return. The stuff stains and is absolutely _terrible_ to remove." He gave them a genial smile and swept, impressively, from the room.

Harry snorted and relaxed deeply into his chair, turning his head, away from Malfoy and all his arrogance.

"Is that how you're going to be, Harry?" Came the mocking tone.

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

"As much as I'd enjoy it, not right now, thank you. Albus could come back at any moment and I don't particularly want to be bent over his desk when he does _come_." 

Harry flushed deeply.

"You're ears are turning red," purred a golden voice near Harry's ear. "Did I _embarrass_ you, Harry? I'm sorry."

"Like hell you are." Growled Harry. "You've never been sorry before in your life, Malfoy."

The pause that followed was so pregnant that it must have been having quadruplets and Harry's nerves snapped. He turned his head sharply, a bitting comment hovering on his lips, before all thoughts were chased away by an unbearably soft mouth.

All thoughts fled as Harry gave into the hard kiss, his neck muscles tightening under the rough caresses of mouth and long fingers on his collar. He surrendered, artlessly, and had just started to get into the rhythm, reaching up to bind his hands within the blonde tresses when the hot pressure was gone, and he was left, panting, staring into shadowed silver-blue eyes.

"You're right, I'm never sorry." Draco stated, slipping out of his chair effortlessly and walking to examine the pictures on the far wall, his eyes trailing over the gallery hung there. 

Harry, through the burning of his lips and confusion, could still make out the picture of his mother and father cuddling each other, with the wrapped bundle of himself as a baby, snug as a bug in a red-and-gold blanket with _Harry_ emblazoned on one corner. They had died shortly after in a terrible accident, Harry escaping injury except for a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, a blunt reminder of the price you pay for unconditional love.

~~ ~~~ ~~

Something was awake in the darkness, something that lived on fire and ate the wretched souls of the living, it was awake and alive and breathing.

It was coming to get Him.

Coming and nothing could stop it.

~~ ~~~ ~~

Harry slumped back to his room. His meeting with Dumbledore, after he had returned, had been a short de-brief, Malfoy staring at pictures the entire time, standing there quietly while Harry answered Dumbledore's routine questions. When he was released, he brushed off his Godfather, begging off due to sheer exhaustion and collapsing onto his bed in a small, but clean, room.

His head was still whirling from his return, seeing Draco again, having Draco kiss him again.

For the longest time, Harry had considered their relationship to be a thing of the past. _Relationship?_ _Could you really call that a relationship?_ Supplied his consciousness. It had ended sixth months ago, two weeks before Harry had left for his mission to the North, amongst arguments and natural tears. Harry had never approved of Draco's profession, Draco didn't appreciate Harry's Bounty Hunter escape tales, as if they were some kind of badge around his neck, a trophy in a case.

So they had ended it, stormily, with many heated words exchanged, and then, Harry had left without a word, a backwards glance.

Harry had not been sorry it ended.

Now he was.

He must have drifted off into a half-sleep when there was a sudden, urgent banging on the door, and his eyes flew open. He vaulted off the bed and grabbed his silver knife out of his long jacket as a precaution, and slowly opened the door.

~~ ~~~ ~~  
To Be Continued…  
~~ ~~~ ~~

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Amy's Notes:

My sincerest thanks go to **Kasi**, for her excellent and thorough beta and her patience with me taking so long with it. Instead of this being a chapter every month or so, it's turned into every two months. It's definitely a side project at the moment, so please be patient with it! I won't give up on it, it's far too interesting right now.

Warmest thanks to all my reviewers (and loyal fans: **Sara**, **Sheron**, **Kit**, **Ishuca **- you all know who you are!), you're interest in this little sideline piece has been warm and comforting to me. And you all know what to do with this chapter as well: hit review! *laughing*

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Next Chapter:

Who is behind that door? Will Hermione be able to decode the information on that disk? Who is trying to get Him, and more importantly, who is Him? What crazy thing will Draco do next? What was the news from the Visionaries? Will a certain Bounty Hunter finally make an appearance?

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Find out in the next chapter of _A Sinister Outlook_!

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